


The Senator's Son

by artemismoon12



Series: Velour!Verse & Daredevil [2]
Category: CPCoulter's Dalton, Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Bisexual!Foggy, Brooklyn 99 Cameos, Canon-Typical Violence, Columbia University, Dwight's Criminal Record, Gen, Gun Violence, Law School Days, M/M, Only Sane Man!Logan Wright, Stoner!Foggy, The Incident (Avengers 2012), Velour!Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23582998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemismoon12/pseuds/artemismoon12
Summary: The friendship which springs up between Foggy Nelson and Logan Wright is an odd one, but one to be treasured nonetheless.
Relationships: Franklin "Foggy" Nelson & John Logan Wright III, John Logan Wright III/Morgan Powell (mentioned), Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Michelle Wright/Agatha Houston, Michelle Wright/John Logan Wright II (mentioned), Thomas Dwight Houston/Todd Hendricks
Series: Velour!Verse & Daredevil [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697599
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Welcome Back Logan Wright

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, this is my passion project of Velour!Verse meeting the wacky world of Netflix's Daredevil. It's the niche which I have carved out purely for my own enjoyment.

John Logan Wright III hadn’t been in New York since he and Michelle had served his dad the paperwork. His stepmother had delivered the divorce papers with a precise coldness he hadn’t realized her ditzy blonde head was capable of. Considering the exacting force that was her new wife Agatha Houston (his step-stepmother?), well, it shouldn’t be surprising.

On Logan’s end, the emancipation papers were easy considering his dad’s homophobia, general conservative hostility, and his records of financial independence given the trust fund his grandparents had left him with. Since then it’d been simple enough to spend time between his final year in Dalton Academy and his single summer down in the Houston mansion in sunny Florida. While they were great respites, there really was nothing like being back in his native New York City.

It was weird of course, to be back. He hadn’t even left for that long, but despite the year away, New York seemed to have changed without him.

Then again, he hadn’t been back since the attack over New York’s sky; where aliens came alive out of science fiction novels, and Captain America was resurrected to fight alongside that science experiment the Hulk, and New York’s own narcissistic protector Iron Man. It didn’t seem like it was even real. Everywhere seemed like it was business as usual until he came across a building half-standing, blasted with holes still not fixed from lasers and giant whales.

He’d seen it on TV of course. Classes had been cancelled when every news stations turned to it. He had been old enough to remember 9/11, but somehow this wasn’t as bad? It was shocking, but the evil wasn’t the same. It was like in that moment the whole world wasn’t scared for New York, but scared for the planet; for what it all meant, even if it meant these heroes made it just as safe.

Still, Columbia wasn’t anywhere near the Midtown battleground. He’d never even had cause to be this far north when he was still a downtown kid, running through Central Park to lose the nannies and housekeepers who raised him far better than Dad ever had. He was home, but this was a fresh start.

The settling in was easy enough; four years of boarding school tended to leave you a lot of experience with moving in to student housing. Granted, this was a step down in terms of property value from the beautiful architectural digest winning décor in Dalton Academy. He could make do though. It was like roughing it almost. At least he had the room to himself; he could not do a roommate after he turned 14, he planned to have a life that didn’t revolve around probably getting sexiled by some straight guy.

Classes started tomorrow. Michelle and Agatha had accompanied him to take a campus tour, so he did know where a lot of places on campus were, but that had been months ago. As soon as he put his bags down (leaving it to the hired movers to figure everything else out) he set out with his phone and a copy of his syllabi to mark down every spot he needed to know.

Even between buildings, Logan could hear the low roar of the city around him. It was comforting as the pre-revolutionary structures mixed with these loud, bustling modern people. Everywhere around him was contradictions that only made sense if you’d grown up with them. Bouncing from Ohio to Florida made as much sense as it sounded; finally he was back in culture, he was back home.

The buildings for his classes were easy enough to find, tracking the rooms themselves was tougher. He found himself mapping the layouts in his head against his own better judgement, his step-brother’s lessons on hidden passageways coming through. Like he’d ever use that stuff- it did help as he got turned around, knowing there was only two more rooms on this particular floor he could turn to. Bingo.

The library was harder. He had found the main one, but Logan Wright was nothing if not prepared. He may be here for his first year of undergrad, but he had his sights set on Law School and there was no way he wasn’t going to start studying to ace the LSATs now. He’d graduate top of his class and take his dad’s seat in the Senate within the decade. Wouldn’t that be a ballot? John Logan Wright II (Crossed-the-floor-Republican) vs. John Logan Wright III (Democrat)? Half the state would think it was a joke. Though, hopefully the traditionally blue state would realize their collective mistake at electing such an asshole before it came to that.

Oh! Over there, talking animatedly to a South Asian guy was a musty looking blond with a ‘Preparing for the LSATs’ textbook in his arms. Jackpot.

“Hey, you! Do you know where the Law Library is?” Logan interrupted, staring at the blond. The other guy glared at him as he butted in.

“Yeah dude, three buildings down.” The blond said cheerily, acting like nothing happened. “Come on, we’re going that way anyways, aren’t we Harpreet?”

“Foggy, not everyone needs to be babied. He doesn’t even look like he’s a law student.” Harpreet rolled his eyes.

“Nah, I totally needed to return my books anyways. Besides, pay it forward to the new kids or else Matt will kill us with that Catholic guilt stare for not being charitable.” Foggy waved him off.

“I do hate when he does that. How does he even know where to look?” Harpreet reconsidered.

“Greater minds than us have wondered.” Foggy nodded sagely, before turning back to Logan. “Come on dude. Shit you’re tall. You first year Law?”

“First Year Poli Sci and Music; I’m applying to the Law Program once I can. It’s going to be competitive enough if I try to slack off this early.” Logan explained. “You’re first or second year law?”

“Both of us are Second Year,” Foggy explained. “Word of advice, get all the fun stuff out of your system before finals. They are going to suck your soul out your ears.”

“You’re not exaggerating. I had to down three Ambien after York’s midterm. If you can, hope he retires before you reach Law School.” Harpreet complained. “Fucking evil bastard.”

“He’s not…” Foggy paused. “Okay maybe he is. He did almost fail me for plagiarism, until we held that mock trial-”

“The one with the cactus?” Harpreet asked.

“Cactus?” Logan asked, confused as they got up the steps to the Law Library.

Foggy beamed, red tinged eyes crinkling with amusement as he put a hand on Logan’s arm with a grin. “Dude, you are in for an epic tale of adventure, intrigue, and litigation the scale of the balance of a young man’s academic career. It all started when…”

Logan, by the end of the story, didn’t know how Foggy, Harpreet, and Foggy’s roommate Matt hadn’t been expelled- but he also learnt the undeniable power of talking out of your ass. He thought he’d fit in perfectly around here.


	2. The Ethics Debate

Foggy saw fit to take Logan under his wing after that. Logan objected to being called a ‘baby duckling’, but he wasn’t outright rejecting the help. It turned out Foggy was actually third in his year by only two decimal points, and for the ridiculously laid back attitude, was an expert at crafting an argument. It made him fairly sure if Foggy had been sent to Dalton, he’d be a Stuart. Maybe that was why he kept letting the guy edit his essays; even if he felt offence every time it came back covered in red marks and mustard stains. Also it helped that Foggy had also majored in Political Science (his minor was Sociology though, not Music).

“It’s all about balance.” Foggy explained one morning between their fourth cup of coffee and Foggy pulling his beanie lower on his shaggy blond hair. “You have to have enough fun you don’t throw yourself off the Student Union roof, but you can’t have too much fun or else you forget to do a fifth round of editing.”

“Fifth? We did seven rounds in Stuart.” Logan bluffed. Five was just about right, but he had a reputation as a workaholic to maintain to the grad student.

“Shock and dismay. Are you implying I don’t work hard enough?” Foggy asked, stirring the creamer into his shitty drip coffee.

“I’m just saying private school may have given me higher standards. I don’t know how much help you’ll be to me come second year of undergrad.” Logan pointed out.

“I’m offended you don’t think Harpreet and I can’t hook you and your undergrad buddies up with the coolest upperyear parties.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “I thought there wasn’t any time for parties in Law School.”

“There isn’t. It’s why we keep up with the fraternities on campus. Where else can you get good weed in New York? Also they’re all related to the upper crust of New York’s highest society, so it’s great for making connections when those same kids get busted for drug possession and they need a fabulously-paid attorney to cover their asses.” Foggy said with a wild grin that was so utterly inappropriate at 9am on a Tuesday.

“Well I’m already part of the upper crust of New York society, so maybe I’m not looking for that?” Logan said, trying to not look too amused at Foggy’s insistences.

“From the gossip I’ve heard, you might not have an in anymore. Just because our illustrious Senator isn’t advertising it, doesn’t mean the rest of the East Coast hasn’t heard how his son and ex-wife ran off to be gayer than a rainbow through a kaleidoscope and dumped his ass for Florida of all places.” Foggy leant back in his chair, “Networking might not be so bad if your father’s cronies aren’t going to be on your side.”

“Not that I want the support of homophobes, but your phrasing is more than awkward.” Logan put his book down, glad Foggy was finally addressing the elephant in the room. The Senator’s son who dumped his dad.

“I’m bi, its fine. I get to make fun of the straights and the gays, it’s like my superpower along with invisibility.” Foggy grinned.

“You could never be invisible if you go around introducing yourself to everyone as ‘Foggy’.”

“Point stands lil’duckling. Law parties are the ultimate networking tool; how do you think Matt and I got the Landman and Zack internship lined up?”

Logan looked at him disbelievingly, “I thought you said it was because you’re both top 5 in the year.”

“Well it was mostly that, but the fact we met one of Zack’s colleagues’ sons at Kyle Wilson’s party last year meant we had insider knowledge of the types of cases they’ve been planning for the coming decade might not be too bad either.” Foggy explained. “It meant we knew what to focus on in the interview, thus favouring us over dear Emma Wilkes who is only a point higher than me in the standings because York likes her.”

“How did you convince someone to tell you insider knowledge about the firm?” Logan frowned, “Isn’t that unethical?”

“It’s only unethical if you specifically ask. But considering the guy tripped over Matt’s cane and felt so overwhelmingly guilty, he couldn’t help but bring us new drinks to make up for it. Then, he just volunteered it all after a round or two.” Foggy said proudly. “Don’t tell Matt, but I love it when he lets people underestimate him. He’s sneaky as hell.”

“Using people’s misplaced pity.” Logan mused. “A good strategy if you’re going up against another shark.”

“Not that I think people are going to underestimate you Wright, you’ve got too much legacy under your belt. Also you’re tall and hot so they’re going to think you have your shit together, at least unless they’re homophobic or fucked about mental health.” Foggy pitched his empty coffee cup into the trash can. “Three points! Nah, but seriously. Also take it that just because your opponent looks like they don’t have their shit together, we can be just as capable.”

“Like you and your beanie.” Logan said.

“Ha! Like I’d wear this shit in court. I’m not an idiot. But yeah.” Foggy said leaning in. “Or like Matt. He can craft a closing argument like no one’s business, no matter what the other side has said for the entire trial he can make the judge forget it in an instant just by looking at him.”

Logan paused, looking at Foggy curiously. “Are you and Matt…?”

Foggy laughed again. “No way! He’s straighter than a board, even if the trail of ladies coming in and out of his room wasn’t enough of a sign. He’s just my best friend. Kind of like, who was it you mentioned, Derek! That’s the guy. Nah, but he is my standing plus one for all family get togethers. My mom would kill me if she didn’t get to stuff him full of food every Christmas. Does Michelle do the same to your friends?”

Logan shook his head, “She’s not really a chef, but she does like to try. The Houston’s housekeeper kind of had a mad time trying to keep up when I invited Julian and Derek down- Michelle tried to make lemonade and nearly ruined the kitchen. It was nice that she tried though.”

“I’m still not over that one of your best friends is a movie star.”

“And my stepmother married the goth kid’s mom.” Logan shrugged, “having a famous best friend is probably the least weird thing about my life right now.”

“One of these days we’re going to do a serious comparison of how unreal your life is. I just rejected a butcher dynasty meanwhile you’re out there in soap opera territory.” Foggy grinned, “you rich people are so annoying.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“And I doubt I’ll be the last.” Foggy waved his hand at Logan, “Do you have the crime stats from 2010? Or did I bury them? We’re going to get you to the top of the class even if I have to sleep with your TA.”

“I thought you had a thing with Marcie?”

“And guess who is gunning to be your TA?” Logan’s face stopped him. “I’m kidding, you really need to appreciate my humour more, young one.”

“Humour. Hmm, is that what that was?”

“Why you-!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always a fan of dialogue. My V!V version of Logan works well with this idea I have of who Foggy was in Law School. Honestly, Foggy would have made an amazing Stuart- Matt as well (though his big buttloads of secrets would have put him in Hanover territory).


	3. How Brooklyn Pays the Bills

The phone rung for what felt like the first time in ages. Karen raced for the phone, shoving Foggy out of the way of the Cardenas file and empty boxes of Thai food. Matt’s head jerked up as the noise broke him out of his reading trance, but quickly realized the fight was not one to get involved with.

“Office of Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law; how may I direct your call?” Karen said calmly, like she hadn’t just aimed an elbow at Foggy’s nose. She frowned after a moment. Matt looked up again, red glasses catching the light as Foggy read Karen’s confused expression.

“Um sure. Foggy, it’s for you. He says he’s a friend from law school?” Karen paused, phone pressed to her chest.

“Which one? Foggy had a lot of friends.” Matt pointed out.

“Too true buddy,” Foggy confirmed. “I just nodded. It could have been Jordan, Marcus, Kenny, Harpreet, Allison- now AJ, ooh what about Geoff?”

“Geoff has a deeper voice,” Matt said, quickly following up with, “Karen, you’d know who we were talking about if you heard Geoff. He’s kind of unforgettable.”

“I’ll say,” Foggy said in fond memory, “He could tell you to jump off a cliff and you’d say ‘yes sir, how hard would you like me to hit the ground?’ and you’d enjoy every second.”

Matt stifled a laugh as Karen gave them a weird look. “I’m learning way too much about you two right now. He said his name was Logan? And it’s an emergency?”

Foggy sobered up, “Oh shit! Hand it over.”

“Put him on speakerphone, if he’s calling you at 11:30 on a Wednesday he might need both of us.” Matt said, waving Foggy to bring the phone closer.

Karen was lost but moved the phone closer, hitting speakerphone as she did so.

“Hey? Foggy?” Logan’s voice came out a little garbled from the 1990s phone system, but otherwise clear and sounding relatively unharmed.

“What’s wrong? You never call me on my work phone. What’s happening?” Foggy said hurriedly.

“You weren’t answering your cell. It’s actually a legal emergency, but not for me. Is Matt there too?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Matt leant forward. Foggy’s roommate had never interacted much with Foggy’s so-decided protégé, but when he had he’d always tried to do that annoyingly good role model stuff to upstage Foggy as a mentor. It was annoying because it wasn’t intentional. Even now he sounded more sincere even though Foggy was genuinely freaked out.

“Sorry I didn’t answer, I’m out of minutes for the month.” Foggy said, “but that’s why we have a landline still. Who needs the legal prowess of Nelson and Murdock? You said not you?”

“It’s my stepbrother Dwi- well I guess they would have booked him under the name Thomas Houston. You remember me mentioning him?

“The one who makes sacrifices to dark eldritch gods?”

He could hear Logan’s blank stare over the phone. “No. The one who will practically assault you if you _suggest_ making sacrifices to dark eldritch gods. Because witches go against catholic doctrine.”

Karen looked at the group of them like they were nuts. Matt only nodded sagely like it was a perfectly acceptable path.

Logan continued, “The idiot got himself arrested while doing precisely that to a bunch of doomsday preachers. His mom called me like I’m supposed to bail him out because the family lawyers are only licensed to practice in Florida. Except I can’t practice either, I’m only a sophomore. So I need someone to get him out of there before he’s charged.”

“Is he innocent?” Matt asked.

“I forgot you guys had that weird caveat.” Logan huffed. “Well, he didn’t actually hurt anyone. The only reason he’s in there is seeing a gun under someone’s _fucking trenchcoat_ in New York City understandably freaked some annoying preachers out.”

“Why does he have a gun?” Karen asked alarmed, making notes regardless of her own panic.

“He’s the literal embodiment of Florida Man Headlines, figure it out.” Logan snapped, sounding like he’d rather be doing anything else right now.

“I’m going to guess any concealed carry permit he has does not cross state lines?” Foggy said.

“Like he ever got a concealed carry permit. He wants to be a ghost hunter and kill aliens for a living.” Logan sighed, “He’s also richer than me, so I figure if you needed help paying rent on the office for this month, this would be some easy logged hours.”

“What precinct is he in?” Foggy said without another word.

“Foggy!” Matt lowered his voice, “You want to enable another rich kid to do whatever they want without repercussions?”

“This is Logan’s step brother. He can’t be all bad if Lo’ is a decent guy. Besides, maybe a brush with jail will be the wakeup call he needs.” Foggy patted his friend’s shoulder. “If not, we get paid either way.”

“Foggy…” Matt warned, but Karen was already taking down the information Logan was rattling off.

“Thanks guys, this really helps me out with Agatha. She’s going to be a lot less stressed knowing I’ve got someone on the case.” Logan said relieved when the two lawyers agreed to formally go down to the station on his stepbrother’s behalf.

“Hopefully you won’t need to call us again.” Matt said evenly.

“But if not, we do have student loans to pay so we’d love to have your crazy step-brother bankroll us.” Foggy interjected.

Logan laughed, “I will. Thanks Matt. Thanks Foggy, I’ll talk to you later. I need some advice on the Pre-Law work anyways.”

“I got your back lil’duck.” Foggy said, “got to go, have a Ghostbuster to save!”

The line went dead. As soon as they hung up, Matt got up and reached for his jacket and cane. Karen pressed the notes into Foggy’s hands before pausing.

“Why do you call him little duck?”

Matt laughed, “because when Foggy and I first met, he called me a handsome duck. Every handsome guy from then on was some variation of it according to our RA, who saw the whole thing- tall duck, coffee duck, Torts duck, and of course this freshman that Foggy decided to adopt became ‘little duck’, even though apparently Logan’s taller than both of us.”

“I prefer ‘law padawan’.” Foggy insisted. “Besides, how do you even know Torts Duck was hot? Are you using your freaky hotness detection superpowers again? I didn’t know they worked on guys.”

“I can’t tell if someone’s hot or not from their voice, I’ve told you this before Foggy.” Matt said, holding Foggy’s rough, wool jacket at him.

“Except Geoff,” Foggy pointed out.

“Except Geoff.” Matt confirmed with a grin. “Karen we shouldn’t be long. With representation it should be easy to ask for leniency if he’s as young as I think he is.”

“Isn’t crossing state lines with a weapon an FBI level threat?” Karen asked worriedly.

Foggy held out his elbow for Matt to take before opening the door. “We’re Nelson and Murdock, we can handle a little FBI if it comes down to it. Lead on MacDuff! We have a paycheque to earn!”

Karen was left in her own haze of bewilderment at her bosses, as Foggy kept up a running commentary all the way to the Brooklyn precinct that held their prospective client. It was too long a trip to take on foot, so they took a taxi that felt a little too dear on a threadbare shoestring budget.

Despite the toll the Incident had taken on Manhattan, the precinct didn’t have the cracking brick so many in Hell’s Kitchen seemed to have. Garbage was still piled in the trashcans out front, a homeless man shouted at them, and a fat corgi was running about like it owned the place- but not too out of place for New York. Foggy led Matt into the lobby, night shift milling around them in a bored buzzing of officers.

Matt did that weird knowing look he did before nodding his head to the right. “I think he’s in holding. They can’t have gotten him processed that fast without a judge being on the clock.”

Foggy put on his best lawyer face and went up to the nearest person awake at a desk. “Excuse me, we’re here for our client Thomas Houston.”

“Who?” The woman texting at her desk said, as if offended he even approached her. Then she noticed Matt, “Oh hello, I don’t believe you and I have been introduced, Gina Linetti, if glitter took a human form, I would be she. Meow.”

Foggy, used to Matt’s effect on women did have to raise an eyebrow at this newest narration he had to add. “Um, she just made a claw gesture at you buddy. But uh, Miss, we’re Nelson and Murdock. I believe you have Thomas Houston, our client. You have him on attempted assault with a deadly weapon?”

“Oh Columbine?” She asked, dismissively, drawing out her words as if each one was more important than the last. “Yeah, he was totally going to go all kung fu on some end of the world street freaks, which I do appreciate for the stories- yah feel me- but like, bringing a gun to a poster board fight is not a cute look for anyone.”

Matt blinked, lowering his red glasses to level her with an unseeing stare. “Miss. Our client.”

Gina wrinkled her nose, huffing. “Don’t need to flaunt it, I know you got it. Hey, Santiago! Your white boy terrorist got himself some white boy de-fence! Jurys in your court.”

“Is that even an expression Gina?” The woman, Santiago, was across the room working on a stack of paperwork. She seemed to be the only cop who wasn’t fighting sleep, or actually sleeping like the pair of old men with Cheetos dust on their computers. She sighed, standing up after searching through the paperwork.

“You’re his lawyers?” She asked, finding the relevant file to look over. “He didn’t say anything about a Nelson or Murdock when he got booked.”

“His stepbrother called us. You don’t have anything but a circumstantial case that a prosecutor won’t even look at until 6am. We’ll just take him off your hands, you can contact us if you have any questions.” Foggy said, handing her a card.

She frowned, looking through the file again. “No. I don’t think you will. I have a gun without a concealed carry permit in the state of New York logged into evidence that says otherwise. That along with resisting arrest puts Thomas Houston under our care until prosecutors decide what to charge him with.”

“And if they don’t charge him come morning? You can only hold him for 48 hours. The courts are backed up, he was brought in on night shift, your time is running out- detective is it? Detective Santiago.” Foggy argued. “You certainly can’t get a prosecutor in here after hours, and are you going to trust this to day shift?”

“We have a gun. I’m not letting a dangerous felon onto the streets.” Santiago shot back. “I’m sorry counsellors, you’ll have to let him have his day in court.”

A black haired guy in a long trench coat, the poster boy of ‘poor chic’ for any one percenter ever, pressed his head against the bars of the holding cells open to the bullpen, “Um, if it helps, I only ‘resisted’ because the guys who arrested me didn’t read me my rights.”

“Thomas?” Foggy asked, leaning over to see the kid properly around Santiago. He certainly looked the part of a wannabe ghostbuster; a string of nonsense symbols around his neck, a crucifix to rival the one in Matt’s office mixed in with some weirder ones he couldn’t place. The battered jeans and t-shirt had seen better days; but who didn’t look like shit after being booked in Brooklyn of all places?

He shrugged, leaning through to loop his hands around the metal. “I prefer my middle name, but if it’s more of a legal thing, sure?”

“If they didn’t read you your rights, that means this arrest was not legal and you’re free to go. That’s very important information.” Matt said slowly.

“Excuse me, how do I know he’s not just saying this to avoid the very real chance he’d go to jail for concealing a _firearm_ without a permit?” Detective Santiago asked indignantly.

“Well, did you arrest him Detective? Can you confirm our client’s rights were upheld to the highest standards of the laws of New York State?” Foggy challenged. “May I see that file?”

“I didn’t arrest him but I am responsible for all the bookings on the night shift. You won’t find even a comma out of place with that paperwork.” She said handing it forward.

Matt hid a chuckle, “Well you’ll find, I won’t. Foggy, if you could read it? I don’t think we want to wait for the braille translation?”

Santiago coloured, “If you wait I could transcribe it to you right now. I took a stenographer’s class, I could get it to your office within ten minutes.”

Foggy closed the file, “No need. Which among you is Detective Boyle?”

“Boyle?” Santiago looked over towards one of the empty desks. She sighed, “Give me a minute. He’s probably out back with Jake.”

As the detective left the bullpen, the lawyers drew closer to the holding cells. Luckily at this time of night, there was only one other person, a homeless guy lightly dozing in the corner.

“So they really didn’t read you your rights?” Foggy asked.

Their client- Thomas- nodded in confirmation. He looked between the two of them, unbothered by Foggy’s hair which rivalled his own for length, but did pause briefly on Matt’s blank gaze. “Did Logan really send you two?”

“Yup. He said something about Agatha having a load off her mind about it?” Foggy confirmed.

Thomas flushed, ducking his head, “Uh yeah. That would be my mom- Logan’s step-stepmom? I don’t know how to explain it, but his stepmom married my mom so, I don’t know what to call it really. She worries.”

“With a son who carries firearms around without seeming regard for the local laws, I wonder why that would be.” Matt said evenly.

“It’s my second amendment right!” Their apparent client said, somewhat understandably before continuing, “How else am I supposed to take on a ghoul? Just holy water? That’s ridiculous. You need some kind of airborne projectile- arrows don’t fit on my belt easily.”

Foggy blinked. Alright then, Logan was not exaggerating.

Matt nodded, as if agreeing. “You know, if this goes to trial we might have a good attempt at an insanity plea. Though, I don’t like your insinuation you are going to be ‘the good guy with a gun’ in any scenario.”

“I’m not insane!” Thomas said, testily.

“I never said you were.” Matt did that head tilt he always did when he thought he had the upper hand in an argument. Foggy rolled his eyes, they really shouldn’t be arguing with a client- even if said client was a bit of a nutjob.

Their conversation was cut off by an explosion of yelling from behind them. Detective Santiago was currently ripping into a short, non-descript man who looked like he just woke up from a nap.

“I don’t care how tired the ngith shift is making you, how can you just _forget_ to read a criminal their rights! It’s the most basic tenant of the justice system! Charles I cannot believe you!”

“Amy, come on. You’re just as tired as I am. Surely you’ve also let a comma or two slip by because of the night shift.” He tried defending himself. “We were right beside the Maltese food truck, and the owner told me if I didn’t get the guy out of the radius of his truck I would never get any of his left over duck tongues ever again. You know I love those slimy little morsels.”

“So you forgot to read him his rights?” She yelled. “I cannot believe you! We are all suffering here together, but I have _never_ let it affect my ability to do my job.”

“Ames, come on, Charles was just-” another detective stepped in but Santiago shushed him.

“I will not stand for this.” She turned on her heel and unlocked the holding pen to the groans of her fellow detectives. “I am so sorry gentlemen for this miscarriage of procedure. If you will follow me to fill out the paperwork, you can be on your way.”

“Can I get my gun back?” Thomas said quietly to Foggy.

Matt and Foggy led their client between them. Matt’s mouth was a hard line at Thomas’s question.

Foggy whispered to him, “Better to cut your losses, this could have been very messy if the detective arresting you hadn’t been so distracted and sleep deprived.”

“Not that you should need a gun anyways unless you’re planning on hurting someone.” Matt said, his cane clicking in front of them towards the front desk.

“Anyways!” Foggy said, his best salesman voice taking over. “After this, we’ll invoice you for the hours okay? Your step-brother may be a friend of mine, but this still could have been a lot worse for you if we weren’t here. The public defenders in this city, I tell you.”

Foggy didn’t mention aloud how much they might be able to invoice this time. Logan did him a favour giving them a client Matt didn’t seem to like; all Christian charity seemed to go cold when a less than innocent client came their way. Surely for a potentially harmful individual Matt would allow him to double the usual rate. Hey, student loans didn’t pay themselves! And the office wasn’t pulling in many big time spenders given Matt’s proclivity for poor, innocent, and penniliess strays.

They got Thomas out of there without much more of a fuss. Sanitago was pissed at her coworkers, but once they left the station they got Houston’s information so he could come by the office tomorrow to pay the bill. Loaded was apparently an understatement as he didn’t even flinch when Foggy quoted him a number.

“Hey, just stay out of trouble okay? You have our card but you shouldn’t be starting things you can’t finish kid,” Foggy said as Thomas tucked the N&M card into his jacket pocket along with the car keys that Santiago had given back to him.

“ _Until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force._ Matthew 11, verse 12.” Matt quoted. Foggy groaned to himself, come on Matt.

Thomas looked unimpressed. “Yeah, well WWBD?”

Matt raised an eyebrow.

“What would Buffy do? Simple. She’d kick ass.” Thomas said assuredly. “Now I have gotta go, I’ll pay my bill when your office is open again tomorrow but right now my boyfriend is probably wondering where the hell I am considering I was supposed to help him edit his essay tonight. Bye!”

With a more dramatic than necessary flourish of his trenchcoat, the young man ducked into the nearest subway entrance taking the stairs two at a time, as if that was a normal way to navigate New York.

Matt and Foggy didn’t know quite what to say to that.

“Josie’s?” Foggy offered.

“Josie’s.” Matt accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason doesn't have a criminal record is because he's a rich, white boy and no one can change my mind on that. He should have a rap sheet longer than my arm but he doesn't. Or sorry- THOMAS, should have a rap sheet. That was fun to write about my favourite idiot from an outside perspective.   
> I also used Brooklyn 99 as the setting because there are never enough B99 cameos or scenes of Gina hitting on Matt.   
> Less Logan in this chapter, but he'll be back.


	4. Making the Call

Logan was exhausted.

Three papers due by the end of the week. His neighbour down the hall was blasting music throughout the night- which was only to (badly) cover up how hard he was railing his girlfriend. The RA kept trying to sell him weed, which wasn’t annoying enough yet to report him. And his on-again-off-again D&D sessions with his on-again-off-again long-distance boyfriend had resulted with Morgan blowing up his paladin, which the rest of the group bore the backlash of. Needless to say, they were off again after that.

As well as his personal struggles, he was babysitting his step-brother’s boyfriend while the guy insisted he could get him an in on the newest courthouse case. “The Punisher” was across every paper in the city, and his new Columbia classmate had some idea that since he once got tutored by one of the defence attorneys, obviously he could get some glimpse behind the attorney-client.

Not that he’d talked to Foggy recently enough to even swing that. It was enough of an annoyance he just sent a gif about the wonders of Google.

On top of that all, he was trying to deal with his father’s attempt to ‘reconnect’ yesterday. As anyone could have predicted, it was a disaster. But Agatha had suggested he give it a chance, to be the bigger person. He and Michelle actually knew John Wright Sr., and they knew he was a self-serving asshole. He was talking full on cameras in his face trying to record a touching father-son reunion where the Senator came off less homophobic to his charming New York constituents in the upcoming election. No dice. Logan walked out so fast the pavement had scorch marks.

When his phone rang, he didn’t even think before he answered.

“What the fuck do you want Todd?”

“Woah, I don’t know who Todd is but I do not want to be him right now.”

“Foggy?” It had been a while since he’d heard the man’s voice. Texts about some new bagel shop were one thing, but it had been pretty busy for both of them.

“Shit, sorry I’ll call back if this is a bad time.”

“No, no… uh I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now.”

“I get that, seriously I can call back-”

Logan cut him off. “No, why are you calling? Shit did Todd get your office number? I didn’t give it to him I swear. I just told him to google you but I thought your secretary would brush him off because he’s a reporter.”

“You know a reporter? I thought you hated those guys.”

“He’s my step-brother’s boyfriend.”

“Ah, got to play nice with the in-laws. I see. Karen must have sent him packing, even if he name-dropped you.”

“That’s good. I saw on the news. You guys ended up with the case of the century huh?”

Foggy sighed. “You could say that.”

That wasn’t good. “What happened?”

“Matt’s ditched me and Karen. Yesterday he was supposed to do cross-examination but he just never showed up.”

“Is he okay?”

He didn’t need to guess at the frustration in Foggy’s voice when he spoke again. “Yes! He’s hunky fucking dory. Just decided to spend the whole week with his ex, instead of, I don’t know, actually doing his job?”

“Wait, that doesn’t sound like Matt.” He recalls a distinctive evening where Foggy tried to introduce him to hotboxing. It was Matt, coughing like an asthmatic, who dragged them out of Logan’s room and lectured Foggy to model good habits to his ‘padawan’. Granted, he’d also heard mention of the illusive ‘one who got away’ Electra, but it didn’t sound anything worse than when Derek tried to date three girls at once.

“You’d think.” Foggy tried to keep calm. “I’ve tried explaining it to everyone else, but they’re all like ‘oh he’s blind, he can’t possibly get into too much trouble’ but he can Lo’. And I can’t carry this firm alone. Karen’s already trying to find another job, Matt can’t even handle our single case- I, I, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Well I saw that shitshow on twitter, about your Dad trying to get you on his good side?”

“Thanks for bringing that up.” Logan said bitterly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that from what you told me about your dad, you thought for a while after he found Michelle that it would be fine. But then when the two of you needed him most, he just fucked off. I guess that’s kind of what’s happening here with Matt. I thought he’d be the one person to have my back, but well, I got this interview with HC&B…”

Foggy sounded like he was admitting to something much worse than looking out for his own wellbeing. Logan had learnt a thing or two about being selfish, but in his own selfishness he’d learnt about what it felt from the other side.

“Are you looking for permission?”

Foggy’s response was quick. “No! I-”

“Because it sounds like you’re asking for permission to dump the partner who has literally not been doing shit on a literal pile of shit of a case. If it’s causing you that much stress, take the job with Chao.”

The line was quiet. He could hear his neighbour’s girlfriend giggling through the walls. The noxious smell of a hot pocket being burned wafted through his ajar door. People played Frisbee outside the window. His coffee was cold. Foggy didn’t respond.

“Foggy. Take the job. Fuck Matt, look after yourself.”

“You mean that?”

“If its serious enough that you’re comparing Matt to my homophobic piece of shit dad? Yes. I moved to _Florida_ with his _trophy wife_ to get away from him.” Logan emphasised. “You have no money, a shit apartment, and Chao could get you set to paying those loans- which you always joked about, but I know you’re going to be stuck with them for a while.”

“I can’t leave him though. It was supposed to be us against the world. Fighting the good fight, taking on guys like Fisk…” Foggy’s voice trailed off.

“Foggy, you can fight a hundred Fisks but if you don’t have the money to do so, you can’t help anyone. And I know you won’t take a loan from me, because if you were looking for money you’d come out and say it.”

Foggy paused again. “It’s actually Hogarth who wants me on her team.”

“By name?”

“Yeah.” Foggy tried to not sound too proud, but failed.

“Then oh Jedi Master, go forth and drop the serial killer on the lap of someone who actually deserves him.” Logan said before jokingly musing, “Oh, and I’ll send Todd to go harass Matt instead. Maybe he can hold him to his moral duty or something-”

“No!” Foggy interrupted. “Uh, Matt and Electra…. They’re not dangerous, but kind of volatile. It’s better everyone just leaves them alone until Matt gets his head out of his ass on his own.”

“Um okay.” Logan said cautiously. “Hey, when- and yeah I mean when, you get the job with HB&C, put in a good word for me? I’m still a year away from Law School, but connections remember?”

Foggy laughed. “Ah yes, too good for frat parties but you’ll squeeze your old tutor for all he’s got once he hits the big times. I have taught you well.”

“Talk to you later Foggy.” Logan said, moving to hang up the phone.

“Take care of yourself Logan. I mean it.” Foggy said with too much intensity in his voice.

Logan would have pried further but Foggy had already hung up.

“I will.” He said to no one in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not here to say Foggy and Logan would be best friends; especially around the Punisher case I can see Foggy missing out on a lot of his life because of the workload. Additionally, Logan is in University, it's not really a walk in the park being away from his support network of friends and family. Sure his Dad is nearby, but Senator Wright is a jerk. So, a bit of a phonecall out of nowhere, but hey... this is Logan showing how far he's come from high school.


	5. Case: The NYWWNAA vs. That Rude Guy

The offices of Hogarth, Benowitz, and Chao were set atop a towering Manhattan skyscraper, lingering just in the cloud levels to allow for a view of the surrounding buildings, but also lend a mysterious air to any visitors.

The mysterious air certainly worked in the favour of Foggy- well, Franklin Nelson’s next appointment. He’d met her for a consultation last week. Mysterious did not even begin to cover her.

She’d come to HB&C after her former representation moved to Massachusetts, but Foggy didn’t put it past her to have killed the man and left his bones buried under an ancient tombstone. She’d been led to Foggy’s office as he’d had experience with New York housing law, and she was currently being levied with a series of lawsuits by a former tenant in her commercial building.

The card she’d left him with hadn’t given him much of an explanation of who she was: Trinity Hendricks, NYWWNAA Chairwoman, Havvenfeld Property & Investments, _trinty.hendricks@HPI.com_. Not much on her beyond a boring corporate website for Havvenfeld, and a “did you mean NAACP?” for the acronym.

Lawsuit wise, she was a fairly simple case. A former tenant complained of excessive noise from the unit her own operation occupied, damage to their property, and that she was withholding her deposit for their office’s early move out date. She had an entire folder of evidence to prove him wrong, as well as proof of slander, defamation, and enough money to countersue if they didn’t drop their allegations. Somehow this tenant was asking for $300K for ‘emotional distress’, but with no evidence on their end.

“Mr. Nelson,” Trinity looked just the same as she did last week when she’d swept out of his office, daring him to turn her case away. Taller than Foggy, with waist length brown hair impossibly smooth and a pure white skirt-suit without a wrinkle, Trinity Hendricks was poised and imposing. “So glad you found the time for us.”

“Us?”

Logan entered the room behind her, the same pressed white shirt and navy blue jacket he’d worn to the mock trial Foggy had coached him on last year. Infuriatingly, it still looked more expensive than Foggy’s own brand new suit, purchased with his brand new salary and corporate benefits. Sometimes the handsome people got all the luck.

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you anywhere near a legal setting until you took the entrance exams.” Foggy said warmly, gesturing for them to take a seat. His personal assistant had already set out coffee for the meeting, along with the relevant case files to the right of his desk.

“Trinity invited me along to observe. She said it would be educational.” Logan said, inclining his head towards the asture woman to whom he was a plus one apparently.

“That, and I would like an insider’s opinion on the man who is to represent myself and my colleagues in this case. You may have assisted a dear friend of mine before, but bail is rather petty in comparison to the matter at hand.” Ms. Hendricks sat the chair as if it were a throne. “Logan will be keeping minutes. He’s also subject to a NDA on behalf of the NYWWNAA, along with anything pertaining to the current state of affairs in the community.”

“And which community would that be? I have to admit I couldn’t get much information on your organization beyond your property management here in New York state.” Foggy said, hoping Logan would enlighten him.

“I apologize, I would have thought the links would have been more visible. I must fire the webmaster.” Trinity said unimpressed as Logan brought up the Havvenfeld website on his own laptop to show her. “In that case, properly known I represent the NYWWNAA, otherwise known as the New York Witches, Warlocks, and New Age Association.”

“She’s also High Priestess of the Havvenfeld Coven, representing the island of Manhattan, as well as-” Logan turned to her with a questioning look, “are you chairwoman, or acting chairwoman of the East Coast Covens League?”

“Acting Chairwoman Logan, I have yet to be officially voted in.” She said, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Was it? Perhaps it wasn’t. Foggy wasn’t exactly well versed in the supernatural community, much as he had become the unofficial representative of New York’s enhanced crime fighters. Wait- was this why he’d been referred the case? Oh he was going to have words with Hogarth.

“I wouldn’t think you would get involved in this… magic stuff Logan.” Foggy said carefully, then addressing Trinity. “I doubt you just bumped into a friend of mine from Columbia by chance.”

“Would you like to explain the tangled web of interconnectedness or shall I?” Trinity asked, a ghost of a smile on her face.

Logan sighed. “Better not confuse him.”

“We shall be family if certain proposals are made, simply leave it at that.” Trinity took the offered cup of black coffee and sipped it impassively. “Your friend’s presence here benefits us all.”

Foggy took the dismissal within stride. “Alright then. So let’s discuss the suit being levied against you Ms. Hendricks. The evidence you’ve complied has made my job extremely easy. Clear statements from residents, contractors, receipts, correspondence- if all clients kept these kinds of meticulous records, us lawyers would be out of a job.”

“Well I’m going into a secure field aren’t I?” Logan said with a smile, typing away.

“Yeah, you are.” Foggy stifled a laugh, “Ms. Hendricks, do you know why your former tenant would sue you?”

“It’s entirely related to Havvenfeld’s supernatural ties.” Trinity explained. “Ever since the sky ripped itself open in 2012, our community has become both more exposed and more sheltered than ever before. Scepticism maligning us as simple ‘superstitious freaks’ have shifted as figures like the Scarlet Witch have entered the public consciousness. Now any spiritual or magical practitioner has suspicion cast on them as if any of our beliefs come close to the destruction carried out by her enhancements. My tenant, Yvon Romonevski, simply could not reconcile that the top floor of our building- a temple and sanctuary for the New Age arts- was recognized under the law as a religious organization, and thus could not be simply shut down because his own ignorance scared him.”

“The noise complaints he lodged all were within permissible hours, never exceeded by-law decibel limits, and were all linked to regular community events held within the top floor.” Logan pointed to the relevant pages within the case file. “Romonevski also seems to think simply dressing like a witch meant the building was about to come down; which is stupid because the Scarlet Witch doesn’t wear anything close to the official Havvenfeld Coven clothing.”

“Yvon brought up his concerns many times to me. I explained myself in person, over the phone, and over email. The only reason I’m not launching a countersuit for harassment is that the Coven does not need that kind of publicity.” Trinity said evenly, placing the cup back on the desk.

“Even if it was good publicity? I’ve heard a lot of pleas from people within the gifted community here in the city; they’d love to see someone from the general public put in their place for their prejudices against them.” Foggy asked, genuinely interested.

“We both know the court of public opinion is not that kind.” Trinity said. “Though conflated, the New Age Arts are distinctly different from these _enhanced_ individuals. Anyone can practice magic, it is tapping into the energy of the universe, but not to cast hexes or manipulate the world. It is to bring inner peace and a greater understanding of nature. These so-called ‘superheroes’, work on a more tangible plane; they can only do what they can through extraterrestrial intervention or crude experimentation. And yes, I consider Tony Stark’s machines a crude experiment of the highest order.”

“I knew a guy who said almost the same thing.” Foggy smiled sadly. “He also hated Tony Stark. Said he couldn’t even see it, but he knew Stark Tower was an eyesore across the New York skyline.”

Logan caught his eye. He nodded. Logan looked back down to his notes understanding. Shame they hadn’t made up yet. But that was what happened when you put your superhero bullshit above your friendship. Not that Logan knew that, but Foggy has told him enough.

“The prejudice against you would go a long way to keeping this out of court. If Romonevski’s lawyer tries to pull any tricks, we would be able to counter with a history of ignorance on his part against you and your associates.” Foggy laid his linked fingers on the desk. “Do you have proof of that? The current files only point to disproving his claims, not introducing anything against Romonevski himself.”

“I can have it to you by tomorrow at noon.” Trinity confirmed.

“That’s very good.” Foggy confirmed. “If I’m not in the office, Florence will be in to receive them on my behalf. I’m meeting with his people later this week, would you like to be there?”

“I would.” Trinity said, motioning to Logan who had a list of questions already printed out and prepared in the front pocket of his satchel. He handed them over. “I would like all of these concerns met during the meeting. I trust you and Hogarth, Benowitz & Chao have the resources to address them.”

Foggy looked over the list. “ _Adams vs. Kramer?_ I don’t see how a twenty year old case would be his secret weapon.”

Logan frowned, “except that it allows tenants the interpretation of ‘distress’ regardless of protected status of their landlords. Havvenfeld is a non-profit, religious organization but if it can be shown that Romonevski was sufficiently agitated without the proper steps to address his concerns, his lawyer might be able to accuse Trinity of willful ignorance of his situation. While the noise concerns are easily dismissed, we don’t know what kind of statements his side has come up with to support his claims of ‘emotional distress’.”

“Nothing’s credible so far, but I’ll take it into consideration.” Foggy said, circling the point and adding it to the folder. “Precedent- not the easiest trick in the book.”

“Beats researching municipal by-laws.” Logan counters.

“Ah, but the New York City by-laws are the best mess of contradictions money can’t buy. Only a couple hundred years of bickering could produce a city where we can both never spit in public and only spit on sidewalks. How can the two co-exist? Who even cares?” Foggy smiled, throwing his hands up in mock defeat.

“And yet, the only people charged with these minor fees are the ones who can’t afford it.” Logan pointed out.

“Oh no, the ethics board got you.” Foggy leant forward. “Don’t tell me you’re going over to the prosecutor’s side.”

Trinity looked between them. “Civil Rights Attorney I believe you said the other day to my brother.”

“That or International Human Rights.” Logan said, “with political aspirations.”

“Planning to knock dear ol’dad out of office?” Foggy asked.

“Senator Wright has masqueraded as a centrist for far too long to get away with some of the legislation he has passed.” Trinity said coldly. “Logan would be a far better choice. But small steps. Learning the minutiae of the largest city in the State is the first step.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “I’m a native New Yorker, you’re the transplant from Baltimore.”

“And yet who has more power in the East Coast at the moment?” Trinity paused. “I will get the files to you by tomorrow Franklin. Logan, we shouldn’t be distracting Mr. Nelson while we’re on billable hours. I need your help with the leasing contracts after lunch.”

Foggy recognized the adjournment. Despite it being his office, he was somehow the one being dismissed.

“I look forward to our continued partnership Ms. Hendricks. HB&C thanks you for your business.” Foggy held out his hand. He felt a slight drop in pressure as she shook it. He ignored that as she turned to leave.

Logan paused as he packed up the laptop. “It was good to see you Foggy.”

“You too Duckling.” Foggy smiled. “You let me know if you need an internship for second year. You might not want HB&C, but there are a couple of prosecutors I go up against that might be more your speed.”

“Whatever happened to me having all those ‘old money’ connections you were hitting _me_ up for?”

Foggy shrugged. “Things change. I figure if you’re actually trying to fight the good fight, I’d rather you be on the right side than fighting in the gutters with me.”

“The gutter? Is that what you call a corner office?”

Foggy sighed. “I like it here. But I doubt you’d like being slung the dishwater cases. I thought they’d moved me up a rung before I realized I’m being pigeonholed into the ‘superhero’ lawyer.”

“Trinity is not one of the gifted; you did hear her right?” Logan asked.

“I did, but my bosses haven’t.” He paused. “Don’t let her take that the wrong way, I just don’t like being reminded of anyone who isn’t one hundred percent… the only word I can think of is ‘normal’.”

“Didn’t you work with the Man in the Mask though back in Hell’s Kitchen? And you’re Luke Cage’s lawyer aren’t you?” Logan clipped his bag closed.

Foggy’s frown grew deeper. “It’s a job. But it’s not a pleasant part. Superheros haven’t really brought out the best in my life right now.”

“Well be glad Trinity’s coven doesn’t like to deal in that kind of thing. I mean, it may be getting normalized, but I’m as out of my depths as you are. We just have to make the best of it.” Logan pointed out. “Hell, if she wasn’t…. once again it’s hard to explain, well, I wouldn’t be working anywhere near the Neo-Pagan community. But, it’s a reference.”

“Is she a real witch though? All Harry Potter and shit? You did say you went to a boarding school, with houses even!” Foggy got excited at the prospect of teasing him.

“You know damn well you and I are both Slytherins, and she’s a Hufflepuff.” Logan said, failing to conceal his own smile.

“The scariest house.” Foggy nodded sagely. “Don’t give her a reason to fire me. If you’re going to blackmail me, do it after she pays me for winning her case.”

“Logan, come along!” Trinity’s voice rang through the hallway, no louder than a speaking tone but it still echoed.

“Yes Trinity.” Logan called. “See you Fogs. Take care of yourself.”

“You too Lo.” Foggy said as Logan left his office.

He sat down with the files, intent to look into the list of concerns he was meant to address. All he could think about though was Logan though. In so many ways the two of them were similar; determined, ambitious, and pragmatic tendencies. But Logan had that streak of hope in him that Foggy could only admire. Not that he didn’t want to help the downtrodden, but it was easier to go into the sharktank and ignore conventional morality, crushing a corporation didn’t hurt as much as when he lost on behalf of a person.

Seeing Logan there getting involved in the side of the city that Foggy had lost Matt too was hard. Granted, Matt said he’d hung up his suit, but it wasn’t the same with the mask’s presence hanging over them. He didn’t want all his friends to get stolen over into a life they couldn’t escape. Logan said it was different, he could only hope he knew better than Foggy. Back in school Logan’d mentioned something about therapy, medication, something like that. Maybe that’s what Matt needed, a healthier outlet than punching evil magic ninjas with his ex-girlfriend.

No Foggy, concentrate. Witch or no, his client was his priority- not wallowing on how he couldn’t talk to his best friend without feeling angry.

Maybe Trinity would bring Logan again. It’d make it feel like things hadn’t changed so much. Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Foggy this is set between vaguely post-season 2 but before Defenders; somewhere in the mix where he's being put on Superhero babysitting by Hogarth, which honestly is a waste of Foggy's talents.   
> Also I totally see Logan as 100% being that democrat bitch who just wants to crush his dad on the ballot. So he's taking the model of a progressiveTM approach to it, even if it is planned out to suit a certain agenda. But he's still that bitch who would never attend a pride parade unless there was political gain.   
> Additionally, if you have to align yourself with some member of this new Post Avengers World Order, Trinity Hendricks is a good one to pick. Rather more stable than Dwight or the SHH. I love them, but Trinity (at least my version before CPCoulter comes by to crush my characterization again) has that calculated edge to keep her folks safe & advocated for.


	6. Further Thought to Process

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-Defenders, but Pre DD Season 3 because I had to do it to em.

“Karen? Is he okay?”

She’d answered the phone. He knew she was there. It was only when he’d asked why Foggy hadn’t answered any of his messages that she stopped entirely. The sounds of the office still filtered in. She hadn’t hung up on him.

Maybe she’d drifted from Foggy as well as Matt; but that didn’t seem likely. Logan had just heard from Foggy that the three of them had gone for brunch last week. It was apparently awkward, but they were making it work. Between Karen going into Journalism, Matt taking on Pro-Bono, and Foggy moving up in HB&C, things had been looking up. Foggy was even talking about inviting Matt back to the standing ‘get drunk and insult the new Mayor’ hangout they’d had with some present and post Columbia students. 

“Karen?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this over the phone.”

“Karen, tell me he’s okay. I thought I’d call Marcie, but I don’t want to bother her if Foggy is just swamped in work, or on vacation or something? He gets vacation days right?” He caught his breath, “You’re scaring me. Did something happen?”

Karen’s voice was strained. “Not to him. But, Matt’s not-”

Logan had to pull the phone away from his face when a sob came out of the line. She wasn’t joking was she?

“I thought Matt was doing that big lawsuit against the, what was it, chemical company? Did someone threaten him?”

“No, he won that case.” Karen said, fondness creeping into her voice despite whatever misgivings had broken up the little firm that Logan had seen start and end in less than a few semesters. “But you heard about Midland Circle?”

His heart dropped. “What the hell was Matt doing at _Midland Circle?_ ”

“Hogarth’s little pet project Jessica Jones was in legal trouble. Foggy was told to find someone to deal with her antics. He found Matt.”

“Matt was the lawyer they kidnapped?” Logan asked in shock. “I saw the news, but I didn’t realize it was our Matt. Why would they take their lawyer when esc-”

“I don’t know Logan!” Karen shouted. People in the background raised their voices in response. “All I know is Foggy keeps blaming himself when we all know that even if Jessica Jones hadn’t dragged him out of the police station, Matt would have thrown himself into trouble anyways. He was always like that.”

“ _Was_.” Logan said softly.

A sharp breath in. Karen held it. She didn’t exhale until Logan heard the hum of the office drift away. She must have gone into the hallway.

“I want to hope he’s alive. But it’s hard. Foggy is convinced that Daredevil got Matt involved again, just like back during the Fisk case. He’s not taking it well at all.” Karen explained, her voice low.

“The building went down. I wouldn’t either.” Logan said automatically. “Thanks Karen. I’ll talk to you later.”

He hung up the phone. Just like Junior Year. Maybe it wasn’t a stalker, but he had to talk to Foggy. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to show up at his door, but relaying it through someone else wouldn’t be enough.

Logan’s bag was sitting on his bed. Checking he had his meds in case he’d come home later than expected, he grabbed it and went out the door. Finding a cab wasn’t the hard part. The doorman didn’t recognize him, but a little bit of charm and a bribery went a long way. Foggy wasn’t going to buzz him up, but he wasn’t leaving without talking to him.

The door still said “Nelson, 602.” It didn’t look like Marcie was in, or else she’d have knocked the umbrella stand over in an attempt to break it because she thought it was ugly.

Logan’s voice was quiet, but he still made sure to hit the door loudly. “Foggy?”

The sound was muffled. He was going to wait. Foggy was on the other side of this door and Logan wasn’t going to go until he got an answer.

It took three rounds of knocking for the crack in the door to appear.

“I’m tired Logan. Can’t this wait?” Foggy asked, pretending like he hadn’t sent every single call to voicemail, and left every message on ‘read’.

“I talked to Karen, I’m not letting you be alone right now.”

“What if I want to be alone Logan? I’ve got work tomorrow.” Foggy made to close the door but Logan’s foot was already in the way. He met Logan’s disapproving gaze and sighed. “Fine. Come in.”

Logan let Foggy close the door and slide the latch out. The clicks were barely finished before Logan was striding in, bag and jacket on the hook, looking around the new-to-Foggy apartment to judge it’s adequacy.

“You haven’t cleaned since Midland Circle have you?”

Foggy shook his head. “You really did talk to Karen huh?”

“She mentioned those so-called heroes took Matt? Why the hell did Daredevil or Jessica Jones need a lawyer?” Logan started where Foggy wouldn’t, and took it upon himself to start picking up pizza boxes, wrappers, and papers scattered around the couch. Foggy’s laptop sat on the coffee table, open to an empty word document he wasn’t sure the purpose of.

“Hmm, she didn’t tell you as much as I thought.” Foggy said, perking Logan’s ears. There was more?

“What, did Matt go willingly? What use could a blind lawyer do against a terrorist organization? Was that what they were?”

“I don’t want to talk about it Logan.” Foggy said, going back to what must be a comfortable indent on the couch from the way it barely shifted to greet him again. “If you want, you can talk at me. But, my best friend’s gone. That’s it.”

Logan kept picking up rubbish, heading into the kitchen to fill the garbage bin between handfuls. Then he paused, and just pulled the garbage bin into the living room. “Foggy, do you remember what I told you happened back at my high school? Junior Year?”

“Vaguely. There was a fire wasn’t there?” Foggy kept staring at the empty word document in front of him. Logan shook his head.

“Yes. My friend Julian had a stalker. None of us knew at the time the guy had managed to actually enroll in Dalton. On Parent’s Night he decided to actually kidnap Julian after about a week of trying to kill me out of jealousy or some shit.” Logan lifted the laptop up to get at the files they’d been resting on. Foggy didn’t seem to notice.

“Anyway, Adam- the stalker- switched my meds out that night. When I finally got off the high, Adam had already trapped a bunch of people in the Art Hall including my crush at the time, his roommate, and Julian. It was on fire. Like a bunch of idiots we ran in to try and save them, forgetting you know- it was a burning building? And we were teenagers?”

Logan got a hint of something out of Foggy, a gasp. “Where were the teachers?”

Logan snorted. “No one told the teachers. Well, I guess they told the other Prefects but they were sure it was a whole misunderstanding and we’d figure it out after Parent’s Night. So by the time I break down a fucking door with an axe, still kind of high as a kite, there’s already smoke and something exploded? I don’t know what.”

“You ran into a burning building? With an axe?” Foggy asked. “To save your crush?”

“And by technicality my cousin and my best friend. But yeah, my priority was Kurt at the time.” Logan shuffled all Foggy’s files back into the briefcase where they belonged. “As I said, we were a bunch of idiots. You should have seen Dwight though, Michelle and Agatha hadn’t met yet, so he was just there because of his ‘hero’ shtick- but he’d already gotten tossed out a window, sprinted across campus, and then held up a damn support beam to get some of the other boys out. He wouldn’t have made it if one of our teachers didn’t come in to get us.”

“So your step-brother’s always been like that?”

“Pretty much. We’re both nuts in our own ways. Shame we could never introduce Matt and Dwight properly outside of lawyering, maybe they’d have gotten along.” He said, getting the last of the takeout containers into the bin. His tone soured. “Mr. Harvey was the choir teacher, he was one of the few who actually seemed to notice my mental state wasn’t really the best. He didn’t come out of the fire that night. He did a brave thing. I think if he’d not risked his life for us all, I… well. Let’s just say I’m grateful. I miss him though.”

“He was your teacher.” Foggy said, flexing his hands. “I get that maybe he looked out for you, but this is my best friend. Matt, even when he was being stupid, he always had good intentions. That’s why I’m mad. He still has the moral high ground even when he’s got nothing else. He isn’t even alive for me to punch him for being so stupid.”

“Well,” Logan started, sitting down next to Foggy in the clearer space. “I’m not saying I know exactly what it’s like. But Julian was in hospital for weeks afterwards, and he is one of my best friends. I thought I would lose him. And between that, the school almost shutting down, and everything afterwards with Michelle and my dad? I finally started listening to my therapist. There are things you can control, and there are things you can’t. And you can never control other people, only your reaction to them. If I did lose Julian, I can’t blame myself- and you’re not blaming yourself, but what point is it to blame Matt when he’s gone?”

“I’m dealing with it. I don’t need to talk to someone Logan.” Foggy said miserably.

“Foggy- we’re New Yorkers.” He said, his hand on Foggy’s shoulder. “We may not want to talk to anyone, but we definitely need to. Especially after shit like that.”

“Don’t make this some kind of _special episode_ sappy on me man. I’m not ready for that. I don’t think I will be for a long time.” Foggy slapped the laptop in front of him closed, eyes focusing on other things. He seemed to notice the lack of clutter with a start, as if just clueing in now.

“Hey, I’m not a therapist. I just know a couple of good ones. Granted, some are back in Florida so you’ll have to settle for the local fare.” Logan said magnanimously. “I’ll send you a list, hell I’ll foot the bill. I don’t want one of my best references for Law School suddenly retreating from civilization- or worse, devoting himself entirely to the dark side.”

“I’m already on the dark side, or have you not seen the suits Hogarth has me wearing these days?”

“You’re a prime shark, she wants you looking the part.” Logan felt a victory when Foggy chanced a smile. “Now shove over, I’m sharing my Netflix password with you so we’re going to do a whole binge watch of whatever you want until it’s time to throw you back to her in the morning.”

There was an unease still thrumming through Foggy’s body that Logan couldn’t ignore; but there was only so much he could do. The most he could offer beyond the connections to a proper therapist was making sure Foggy knew he was there. It had been what had been offered to him, and thank god it had been.

Foggy fell asleep sometime through Season 2 of the shitty cooking show they were watching. Logan matched him soon after. They didn’t see each other when they woke up; one went to class and the other to work.

Between lectures, Agatha’s number appeared on his phone. Logan excused himself from his groupmate for Fundamentals and took it.

“Agatha, sorry, is something wrong?” Logan asked, running through a list of reason’s his step-stepmom would be calling at this time of day. She would be at work by now, getting ready for the late spring season at the parks to begin. “Is it Michelle? Did something happen?”

“No, no.” Agatha Houston’s even tone came through the phone. “But did something happen to you? I got a call from Doctor Feldstein? You’re recommending him patients now? On the family account?”

Oh yeah. Logan’d emailed his psychiatrist’s office here in New York that he’d probably be getting a new patient, and just to charge him on the same account for the consult. “Yeah. It’s my friend Foggy. I knew he’d never go to therapy unless there wasn’t a financial barrier, so I kind of? Removed it?”

She hummed in agreement. “Is this the same Foggy Nelson who Michelle has been regaled of? The upperclassman who owns his own firm?”

“Well owned his own… his former law partner… well something happened to him. Foggy wasn’t doing too well.” Logan explained, careful to not spread Foggy’s personal business around.

“So you took it upon yourself to ensure your friend’s continued mental wellbeing?”

“Isn’t that what friends do?” Logan asked, leaning against the wall as another group of students passed in a gabbing crowd.

He could feel her smile, “I’m proud of you Logan. Michelle is as well. If you or your friend need anything else, just give me a bit of notice okay? Oh, and remember Michelle is coming into the city this weekend for the Metropolitan Gala through her agency?”

“Yes Agatha. I promised her I’d skype her after dinner tonight anyways. Yeah. Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”

It was still too early for either maternal figure, or figurative son to say ‘I love you’; but the feeling remained as they hung up.

Michelle may have been the one to claim him as her own after the fire on Parent’s Night turned the night into a hell on earth; but it had been Agatha who gathered the two of them up and declared hell would never touch them ever again. It wasn’t superstition, or delusion, or whatever her son believed in- or even part of her own carefully curated Catholicism that did that, but just Agatha, teaching him how you had to fight to keep what you had. Once a Houston considered you theirs, you couldn’t protest the now realized fact.

Thinking on Foggy Nelson, snoring on the couch next to him last night, Logan figured maybe his step-family had more of an influence than he’d thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A. Agatha Houston is my Queen  
> B. Logan Wright has grown so much because of actually having family who gives a damn.  
> C. Foggy can protest, but if Logan Wright is finally listening to his therapist, you can goddamn go to one on his dime because he knows better than anyone you gotta get help for that shit.


	7. One Rainy Day in Manhatten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor Gun Violence in this; no major harm, but trigger warning nonetheless. Overall, some resolution of the narrative.

“I swear to- argh god!” He yelled as the bike messenger cut him off coming out of the side door of the District Attorney’s office.

Logan kept cursing, the evening downpour soaking him through as he ran for his phone skittering across the pavement. The papers he’d just tucked into his satchel safe enough; but not safe from the rain as Logan bent down and all the rain from his back ran right back onto his head. Nice… not.

“Babe? Babe? What happened?” Morgan asked from the other end of the phone.

Logan kept cursing. “Motherfucking bikers deciding they own the sidewalk like some kind of mutherfucking gods.”

“Aw, Lo’, do you need help with offerings to keep those capricious gods away?” Morgan couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice. “I can get the guys to give you lists. It would be a fun Saturday afternoon.”

Logan groaned, ducking under the awning of Sal’s hot dog cart. “The only offerings I am ever giving are either during the campaign, or to you, because your birthday is coming up and you haven’t even told me what you want. I can fly down. Just let me take you out.”

“I know, that you know, that you can’t afford a single day off with the other interns breathing down your neck for any source of weakness or corruption.” Morgan chastised him. “You can start with dice though- the pewter or opal sets. Maybe those _Theologica_ books I wishlisted on Amazon. Or you know, you could actually record some of those songs you composed so I could actually listen to them properly?”

“All that and more.” Logan forced himself to smile through the sodden feeling in his shoes. Sal glared at him hogging the space under the cart, but Logan rolled his eyes. The man was packing up anyways.

Morgan made a noise of approval, and one that suggested he’d have some rather nice private photos sent later. “Excellent. Maybe I won’t kill your character next round. I definitely won’t if you tell me what’s happening with the second Fisk trial. Todd’s been going on about it, and I know you won’t tell him shit, but maybe you’ll let a little something slip to your favourite boyfriend in the world?”

“You know I can’t say anything while the trial is still ongoing.” Logan said. “Besides, why can’t you just bug Todd? He’s the one actually in the courtroom, gathering enough quotes to fill an hour long Youtube video- let alone a 500 word blog post.”

“You two go to the same college, can’t you just acknowledge he does a good job on the school paper? He’s getting sources beyond just bugging you now.” Morgan pointed out.

Sal nudged Logan; Logan ignored him. “If I admitted that, then he and Dwight would never leave me alone. They’d take it as full permission to hug me or some shit. And aren’t you being a gossip monger right now? I’m not even on the Fisk case.”

“But between the Fisk retrial and the newly established Nelson, Murdock, and Page, surely you know something that Todd can’t get into the paper?” Morgan asked.

“I am legally bound to confidentially.” Logan smiled, leaning against the cart and getting another jab for his troubles.

“Hang on Morgan,” Logan turned around, “Fucking what Sal? I’ll buy a – oh shit.”

The guy was subtle, but Logan’s heart stopped when he saw Sal’s panicked expression. The gun pressed against the hot dog cart owner’s side nudged him forward. Logan froze, ignoring the questions his boyfriend was throwing out from the other end of the call.

“You’re coming with me, or the hot dog guy gets it.” The gunman said, his voice not raising but not sounding reassuring about the fact he’d pulled a gun outside the County Courthouse. “You’re going to end the call, now.”

Years of therapy did not prepare him for possible hostage negotiation. They did however teach him how to stay calm in crisis. Money well spent, thank you dear old dad and his moms.

Logan took a deep breath, “Okay. We’re fine. Sal, we’re going to be fine. I’m turning my phone off, we’re good. Bye Morgan, we’ll talk later, I have to go.”

Saying the last part louder, he held his phone out enough for the gunman to see it. Logan pressed the screen as if he was ending the call at the same time as he slipped the ‘silent’ bar on the side of the phone. Hopefully he was subtle.

“Good?”

“Just move.” The guy said harshly, pushing Sal forward like a human shield.

“Where are we going?” Logan asked as they moved away from the courthouse.

“Away.” The gunman offered as his only explanation. Sal whimpered audibly; not that Logan could hear much between the rain and the general background hum of the city that never slept.

Ignoring the water seeping into his hard leather shoes, Logan couldn’t stop his brain from running through possible solutions that let him walk away from this alive- maybe even he and Sal alive. Though, if he’d really been concerned about Sal’s life he’d already have negotiated for the gunman to only take him and leave random people out of it. But Logan wasn’t a hero, at least not for just anyone.

“What is this about?” Logan asked.

The gunman grunted, pushing the two of them towards an alley two blocks away from where they started. The rain echoed off the dumpster that hid them from view. As soon as they were out of view of the street the man threw Sal against Logan, both of them tumbling to the grimy pavement. He heard something crack in his pocket as Sal’s weight crashed into him. He pushed the other man off him, looking up to see the barrel of the gun pointed at them both.

His first thought as he stared at the metal in front of his face was that it was probably his phone that had broken. As clever as he thought he was, guess Morgan wouldn’t be hearing any compelling evidence for his possible murder trial.

“What the fuck.” It was more of a reaction than a question at this point.

“I said,” Apparently the gunman had been speaking to him, shit. “You’re going to convince the DA to drop all charges against Kingpin.”

Logan coughed, caught between emotions. “Is this what this is about? Fucking Wilson Fisk? I’m an intern! I can’t do shit about Fisk. Try to intimidate someone with real power, like I don’t know, the DA? He’s not going to listen to an intern.”

“You’re John Wright’s son, they’ll listen.”

Logan couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “Is that it? You think invoking my dad is going to work? He’s probably already in Fisk’s pocket, but I’m not.”

“You will do it. Or else I’ll shoot you.” The man walked up, pressing his gun to Logan’s forehead. “I’m not joking.”

No he wasn’t. Logan knew it had been a mistake to talk back, but the stakes here were ludicrous.

He had been truthful, as an intern he didn’t have much power in the District Attorney’s office. Even with his connections through his political education, only a handful knew him well enough to have a positive opinion of him- and those ones were typically not the powerhouses of New York. A blue state, they’d been pulled into the reactionary right following the Incident and Tony Stark’s ridiculous posturing about privatization of World Peace. Everyone had some idea of how to defend the city, defend the state, defend the world- and not all of those ideas lined up with Logan’s ideals.

The press of metal against his head had him searching for responses. He couldn’t talk back, but agreement would pull him into a situation he could never come back from. His ethics professor came back to him. Closing his eyes, he wanted to be anywhere else, anywhere at all. Compromises of ethics are never compromises, they’re surrender. But if surrender meant survival?

“Hey!” The gunman exclaimed, Logan opening his eyes as he felt the gun pull away from his forehead.

“Who are- shit! Daredevil!”

It was. Logan scrambled to his feet. Daredevil, that so-called hero of Hell’s Kitchen, has appeared from thin air, kicking the gunman in the back of the knees. He lost his grip on the gun, dropping it at Logan’s feet.

The vigilante took the gunman by the collar as Logan watched. Sal was already escaping, Logan should too, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the raw power of the crack the gunman’s jaw made when Daredevil punched him. The thuds and creaks of bone of a man getting the, well, getting the hell beaten out of him.

Logan looked down. The gun was right there. He could help.

“Who sent you? Who is Kingpin working through?” Daredevil asked, a dangerous growl rippling in his voice. He was reducing the gunman to a pile of flesh between barked questions.

Logan’s fingers slipped around the gun, the weight of it unfamiliar but not unknown. His step-brother had taught him how to shoot; he had said it was a useful skill, even if Logan insisted he would never have a reason to pick up a gun. Now he was glad for Dwight’s paranoia.

He took a step forward. Daredevil’s head cocked, turning towards Logan. In profile, Logan could see his snarl was almost animalistic.

“You should leave.” Daredevil warned. “I’ve got it from here.”

“He’s not going to talk to you. You’re the Devil.”

“They always talk.” He threw another punch; the gunman whimpered.

“Confession under torture isn’t admissible in court. It’s not even truthful most of the time.” Logan pointed out.

Daredevil paused. Logan thought he almost looked thoughtful. The moment passed.

“You know how to use that, kid?”

Logan scoffed, as if Daredevil was any more than a few years older than him. That growl didn’t hide everything.

“I’m no sniper, but I get by.” Logan admitted.

He hadn’t raised the gun yet. Dwight had drilled into him that you only pointed it at things you meant to shoot. There was no reason to do that yet.

“Sure you do.” The scepticism wasn’t unwarranted, but Logan bristled at it all the same.

“Well he broke my phone, so I need some way to get him to the police station without him escaping?” Logan hazarded.

Daredevil cocked his head again, frowning. “No need. Sal got them for you. Good man. Tip him.”

The gunman got one more blow to the head in Daredevil’s frustration before the vigilante stood up straight, the gunman groaning on the ground. Logan’s fingers tightened on the handle of the gun, but he still didn’t raise it.

“Thank you?”

Daredevil scoffed. “Don’t thank me. Just put the gun on the ground before Mahoney arrests you instead.”

“Mahoney?”

“He’ll be here in a minute. Better hurry.” Daredevil gestured towards the mouth of the alley. Logan turned to see flashing lights lighting up the rainy street outside the alley. He looked back to see Daredevil was gone.

He put the gun down. Lifting his hands just in time for the cops to round the corner. Morgan was never going to believe him.

\---

“So you picked up the gun to help Daredevil?” Detective Mahoney asked him, Logan sitting across from him at his desk in the middle of the precinct.

Logan had barely escaped cuffs when he’d admitted his prints would be on the gun. Beyond mentioning Daredevil had saved Sal and him, he’d been tight-lipped.

“Where’s my lawyer?” Logan countered.

Mahoney sighed, “We let you call your people. It’s not my fault you couldn’t get through. You’re not under arrest, but I need your statement to stop anyone from trying to intimidate people into freeing Wilson Fisk.”

“Stop right there!” An unfortunately familiar voice cut through the din, with far too much enthusiasm than Logan was willing to handle right now. He sighed, at least one call he made got through. “Our client will not be answering your interrogation anymore!”

“Todd, you’re not my fucking lawyer, knock it off.” Logan leant back in his chair, proven correct as he saw Todd Hendricks, from the top of his close-cropped brown hair to the toe of his scuffed dress shoes. The other young man strode through the police station with only the confidence that a self-proclaimed servant of truth could.

“Yeah, but I always wanted to say that. It’s like _Law and Order,_ except I’m in charge of the script.” Todd grinned, planting himself on the armrest, forcing Logan to shift to the other side of the chair.   
“Don’t worry, I remembered to bring your actual lawyer. He’s just paying the cabbie.”

“Why do I know you?” Logan asked, forcing a frown. He couldn’t let the guy know he was actually grateful, he’d get even more annoying.

“A complicated web of romances.” Todd answered only half kidding. “But be glad you do know me. Even if you hadn’t called me I was already planning to get down here. I’ve been tracing Page’s twitter updates on the Daredevil and let me say, I never expected to find you mixed up in all of that. You tend to stay on Trinny’s mundane side, so to see you near a gifted was a bit of a surprise.”

“It was a surprise to me too, don’t worry Hendricks.” Logan assured him, feeling Mahoney’s questioning gaze on the two of them.

°You’re mixed up in Page’s hero watch?” Mahoney asked.

Todd scoffed, “It’s more like a friendly rivalry between underpaid journalists. She posts some photos, I question her authorial integrity; together we get the truth out somehow. I’ve still never met her. Dwight’s betting she’ll try to deck me so he’s got me to promise to take a self-defence class.”

Mahoney grunted. “You’ll need that against Page alright.”

Thankfully, Foggy jogged in, as promised. “One legal representative, as requested. Sorry lil’ duck, there was an argument about the tip. Since when is 20% a cheapskate move?”

“Since I gave you a fifty and he didn’t want to make change I bet.” Todd put his elbow on the back of the chair, just to have Logan push it off.

“Probably.” Foggy shrugged. “Hey Brett, how’s your mom?”

Detective Mahoney gave Foggy like ‘you again?’ “She’s Fine. Are you really this guy’s lawyer?”

“Yup.” Foggy said, “Lil’duck and I here go way back.”

“Thanks for coming Foggy. I didn’t want to give my statement without my lawyer here.” He gave a pointed look at Mahoney. “I’d prefer a written statement anyways.”

Mahoney glared. “You’re not under arrest.”

“He might not be, but better safe than sorry; even with you Brett.” Foggy shrugged, “can we get some paper?”

Mahoney grunted, leaving a sheaf of paper and shoving his mug of pens towards them. He stood up and left them to it, turning to presumably attend to some other police business.

“Are you okay Logan?” Todd asked, his cheery demeanour cooling once the detective left. “

Logan looked up, buttoning his mouth. “I’m fine, …thanks.”

Todd lowered his voice, “They’re saying you shot someone?”

“No, I held the gun once Daredevil came in to save us. I thought, well, I don’t know what I thought but after Dwight taught me how to shoot I figure I shouldn’t just let it stay within reach of that guy.” Logan explained.

“Daredevil, or Robinson?” Todd asked.

“Is that the guy’s name? Whatever.” Logan mused, “Yeah, no, the gunman. I wouldn’t let Daredevil hold a gun either. He seemed… well, not unhinged but certainly more violent than I used to be.”

“Yeah, and you almost got expelled for that as I recall.” Todd countered. “So worse? Yeah, I can see that. The guy saved Dwight and I from the Jersey Coven a month ago; he seemed… driven.”

Foggy snorted softly, cutting through the hum of noise around them. “That’s one way to describe it.”

“Oh yeah, sorry Foggy. I forgot about your history with the vigilantes.” Logan said cautiously.

Foggy shrugged one shoulder. “I’m working on it. Now that we’ve got Nelson, Murdock, & Page up and running it’s not like Hogarth is around to shove me onto superhero cases anymore. And, um, your sister I guess decided to keep us on retainer so it’s like a nice stepping stone to being okay with all of,” Foggy waved his hand around, “this, abnormal stuff.”

Todd rolled his eyes. “Don’t let Trinny hear you say that. Or she’ll be shopping for new lawyers.”

Logan let himself smile. The two in front of him gently sparring like they hadn’t just met an hour before. Then again, Todd was underfoot enough here in New York maybe they had met before. He didn’t have the energy to ask.

“So, should we get this statement written? I’m sure the detective can let us have a place more private to discuss it than the bullpen.” Logan asked Foggy.

“No, we’re still waiting for one more.” Foggy smiled, nodding his head towards the door.

“You’re sure he’s coming?” Logan asked, caution in his voice.

Foggy’s half smile didn’t falter. “Yeah, he’s got you lil’duck. _Mi amigo e su amigo_.”

“Is that even proper Spanish?” Todd asked.

“Eh, I took Punjabi.”

“Valid.” Todd said to the blond-lawyer, turning back down to the blond, mere lawyer-in-training. He touched Logan on the shoulder, causing a flinch. “I’ll head out. It’s okay to let Morgan know you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Also tell him my phone is smashed to heck. I don’t know when I’ll get home to message him.” He realized, “Shit, also Michelle. She and Agatha are going to freak if they don’t hear first thing.”

“Got it.” Todd nodded, stepping away from the chair with a good natured nod of the head to Foggy. “Take care of my future step-brother-in-law, or I guess, whatever it’ll be when Trinny and Ol’Uncle Ford get that hand fasting she’s always threatening him with.”

“Don’t get me started.” Logan sighed, sprawling back out in the chair Todd so graciously let him take full control of again.

“See yah,” Todd waved, exiting as the waylaid second lawyer entered. He paused for a moment, holding the door open for the tapping cane; both pausing for a second before continuing as if they hadn’t noticed anything amiss.

Matt hurried in, his hair wet from the rain and panting like he’d run there. Knowing Matt he might have, it would explain the bloodied knuckles. He was always tripping as he hurried around his well-worn ten block radius.

“I haven’t seen you in ages.” Logan said, looking towards Foggy for a lead.

“Haven’t seen you at all Logan.” Matt’s crooked grin sent Foggy into a poorly hidden round of laughter. Logan stared.

“You haven’t changed have you Murdock?”

“For the worst.” Matt noted, with a dip of his head. It was good to see him though; he could say he’d changed for the worse, but Foggy and he had shades of the smiles they’d had back in law school. He’d missed this Foggy, and he might never have properly met this Matt.

“He’s staring at you buddy.” Foggy noted, picking up the pad of paper for the statement. “Come on, let’s bully Mahoney into giving us a conference room, or at least a laptop so we can email the office a copy for your screenreader.”

“Sorry I was late.” Matt said, his natural seriousness seeping back through. “I was held up. You’re Foggy’s friend, you don’t deserve that.”

Foggy rolled his eyes, “Calm down Matty. Let’s get Lo’ going and we can assign blame later.”

“My therapist would say the blame only rests on those who did something wrong. Which would be that asshole working for Fisk.” Logan pointed out. “There’s no use taking blame for something you can’t control.”

Foggy coughed. “I’m giving you a look Matt. Come on, let’s go.”

Matt slipped his hand into the crook of Foggy’s elbow, lockstep between them again as Foggy led them over to one of the conference rooms. Logan guessed they’d been to this prescient often enough. He fell into step with them, at Foggy’s other side and carrying his sodden coat that was too wet to dry quickly.

“I won’t insult you and ask if you’re okay, I know you’re not.” Foggy said quietly, Matt pretending like wasn’t listening. “So how about this, do you think you’re going to _be_ okay?”

Logan thought about where he was, and how far he’d come. He hadn’t run today. He hadn’t run into danger either. Foggy’s concern radiated off him. Was this an aura like Dwight described? Maybe it was. Foggy’s felt like a warm summer day, like good piano recital without a note off. With a friend like that looking out for him? How else could he answer?

Logan held the door open for Matt, Foggy leading him in. Logan paused, looking back at Foggy before taking his own seat. “I think I will be. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Foggy said with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write more of this friendship, but this is what I have for now. A start, middle, and open ended ending. Foggy and Logan are good eggs; they have more than just each other as friends, but again- its a treasured friendship nonetheless.


End file.
